


Companionship

by dizzy



Category: Lost
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-21
Updated: 2004-07-21
Packaged: 2018-03-04 15:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3073673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But I shall warn you... it's a Billy Sue. A original character played by what I would imagine to be a thirty-something Scottish charmer... *cough*. Yeah, you know who I mean. Anyway. And if you don't like it... *points finger* blame whisperkat, she made me post it! :P *hugs and thanks*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Companionship

They've been lost for four days when Charlie meets the Scottish bloke. His name is Nick, and when they are finally properly introduced Charlie has to watch Jack bawl Nick out for not having the wound on his leg looked at right off. It needs stitches, it seems, and Jack has Charlie hold Nick's hand while Jack does the sewing. For a slight man, Nick has a strong grip. He apologizes later for the bruises on Charlie's hand. Jack tells Charlie to watch over Nick and make sure he eats and drinks regularly and doesn't pass out from the blood loss he suffered before he finally brought the six inch gash on his calf to someone's (Jack's) attention. 

Nick owns a bookstore in Glasgow and gave his nephew a Driveshaft CD for this past Christmas. Nick plays the guitar, bass and acoustic, and they spend a great deal of time tossing names back and forth, debating the greats and the great failures of musicians past and present. Charlie appreciates Nick's sense of humor and how it compliments his own. Nick appreciates Charlie for being a friendly face in a sea of strangers, mostly desperate or bitter and resentful over the situation that they have collectively found themselves in. 

As the days pass, Charlie finds himself wanting more and more to tell Nick his shameful little secret, but he can't bring himself to. Everyone will know soon enough, he reminds himself. 

And they do. Two weeks in, Charlie's supply runs out and the withdrawal symptoms hit him hard. Jack shakes his head in disgust and lectures and rants and generally makes Charlie feel like a grade-A shit, but its Nick that washes his face off with a cool t-shirt and sings to him when his head is aching and his entire body is wracked with tremors and he can't get more than a few saltine crackers down before he's puking into a bush. Its another few days before he can stomach real food, and a few more before he actually feels faintly human again. The only thing that brings him comfort and feels like home during that time is Nick, with his cool green eyes and his high-pitched laugh and unfailing kindness that Charlie cannot even begin to comprehend, but still hopes to reciprocate some time or another. 

The others look at him different, after. A bit patronizing, a bit condescending, a bit annoyed. Charlie feels it, too, in his heart - feels the guilt, because there are people here still alive and suffering with real injuries, and he's so ashamed of his own self-afflicted ailments. But Nick stands by him, and gradually he earns the kindness of the others once again. 

One night they're watching the moon and counting the stars when Charlie tells Nick that he reminds him of his ex-boyfriend. Nick pauses, nods, and asks what the bloke's name was. Charlie says he doesn't have one, because he made it up, that he didn't know how else to work the phrase "I'm gay," into a sentence. Nick throws back his head and laughs. Then he hugs Charlie, and kisses him on the cheek. When he leans back out of the hug, he doesn't completely remove himself. His arm stays around Charlie's shoulder and Charlie thinks, isn't it strange, that he can feel so happy when things are so bad.

*

Charlie never meant to tell Nick his life story. 

It started with, "Where'd you say you were from, again?" and it just went down (up) hill from there. He rambles on for a while about his childhood, being an only child and the class clown at school, teachers telling his mum and dad that he just wasn't very bright, or if he was, wouldn't sit still long enough to prove it. And then Charlie talks about growing up, about how he's been in the closet for a good ten years now, only his close mates and his partners knowing. 

Charlie recognizes the fact that he was no disappointment as a rock star, but as a musician he seems destined for one of the more tragic, forgettable roads. The drug addiction started not long after the band began to get attention from club owners and the media. A few write ups in a local paper led to a steady gig at a nightclub, which led to a record producer coming down to hear them play and that, Charlie sums up, was that. 

And then Elton, his boyfriend at the time, introduced him to the pills and the powder and the masses of other addictions that consumed him for a while. But Charlie wasn't dumb; when their fame grew, he left Elton to his waste of a life and kicked the more dangerous vices as well. 

But he couldn't kick them all. 

He didn't say any more about that, wanting to keep a few things to himself. Nick nodded, as if he understood, and it was only hours later that it occurred to Charlie that maybe Nick really had understood, maybe he really did know what Charlie was going through. 

It was Charlie's turn, then. He asked Nick the same question, "Where are you from?" Though he remembered quite well, Glasgow, but he expected Nick to elaborate, as Charlie had. 

"Glasgow," Nick said, not pausing in his activity, which at the moment involved cleaning a pile of fish that someone (Sawyer, Charlie thought) had caught. 

"And a bookstore, is it?" 

"Yeah. Little one, but I do well enough at it. Food on the table, money in my pocket, at least." 

"Is that nice, owning a bookstore?"

"Not as nice as being a musician, I'd say, but nice enough." 

"You have any family?"

"My brother Michael and my sister Ann. Ann's got two lads and a lass, just born. Michael's wife has one on the way. Due soon, in fact. Wonder if they'll name it after me, in honour of my tragic passing." Nick says with a cheeky grin. 

"What about your parents?"

"Retired. I'm afraid I don't have that interesting of a life." He says, apologetically. "For fun, I go out to the pubs with my mates, watch footie, play around with the guitar."

"Doesn't sound un-interesting to me. Sounds terrific. Maybe if I lived more like that, I wouldn't be such a fuck up now." 

"Charlie," Nick slides the knife into the fish, and looks up. "You're not a fuck up. And you'd better be glad I'm holding this manky thing, or I'd hit you over the head for saying that." 

Charlie grins. "Wouldn't matter. You hit like a bloody girl, anyway." This is what they've become good at, taking the piss. This is what Charlie likes. That he can joke around and know he's still being taken seriously. Jack and Kate humor him most of the time, or just shake their heads at his suggestions. He keeps his mouth shut around them, unless its to crack a joke or a shot at himself - though Kate tends to frown when he does it, and that's one of the reasons he likes Kate, even if she doesn't see him as the kind of guy she'd go for. Not that he wants her to go for him. But, still, Charlie has got an ego, and occasionally it likes to be soothed. 

He considers asking Nick if he would soothe his ego, but decides it would sound too perverted. 

And then he realizes that Nick is grinning at him, apparently amused by Charlie's wandering mind. But Charlie doesn't mind, because Nick has a wonderful smile.


End file.
